


Willing Prey

by Eratoschild



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blade kink, Bladeplay, Chill XV, Consensual Kink, Dagger Kink, Daggers, FFXV NSFW Week, Kink Negotiation, Knife Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Restraints, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Trust, Trust Kink, risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 02:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13754697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eratoschild/pseuds/Eratoschild
Summary: Prompto wants to feel those daggers of Ignis's on him, Ignis is surprised to find out just how much they're on the same page.When he had gotten past his apprehension and started to speak, he was taken with the change that came over Prompto's face. The mischievous grin slowly subsided, giving way to something else that Ignis couldn't quite name until Prompto interrupted him and then it was clear: though he spoke haltingly, what he was seeing was comprehension.





	Willing Prey

“Would you like to find out for yourself?” The words were murmured low in his ear as they walked back towards the Citadel after lunch, Ignis suddenly pulling him close. His tone of voice suggested things that not typical of workday post-lunch activity.

 “Yeah. Wait, what?”

 “My daggers darling. You said you wondered what it would be like to be on the- how did you put it, the “business end” of them?”

 “Oh. Heh. Yeah I did say that, didn't I?”

 “Indeed. It can be arranged, you know.”

 

He had made an offhand comment, not a serious question. But it seemed that Ignis had given more gravitas to Prompto’s idle musing than he himself did, and a different meaning as well.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.“I didn't know that was an option. Um, I mean I know that some people- and I kinda wondered if _you_ \- but uh, you never mentioned it before- what does it- I mean what would you um-maybe?“

 

Somehow Ignis seemed to understand what he was struggling to ask. “It is, I do and that’s negotiable,” he said, one corner of his mouth twitching briefly. The sound of the text tone signaling a message from the king sounded before he could say more. He checked his phone. “However, it appears that one of my meetings has been rescheduled for fifteen minutes from now. Why don't we discuss that later. No use spending the rest of the day being distracted by such thoughts.”

 

“It sounds like you mean you’d be distracted all day!”

 “I suppose there is little use in denying that the idea presents a certain provocative attraction which in turn holds the distinct potential-“ Prompto cut him off with a laughing kiss.

 “It’s sexy when you use too many words. Okay don't get all _distracted_ for your meeting with the king.”

 

 

Hurrying away towards his meeting, Ignis had to chase away the images that were forming unbidden each time he closed his eyes. There was a time and place. This was neither. It took all of the concentration he had, and even then he could push them no further than his mental periphery. He was well aware when Prompto made the comment that this was not what he meant. However, he decided to take the opportunity and he was fairly certain he had hit his target. 

 He tapped out a quick text. _Come over tonight. We’ll talk about it._ The reply was nearly instantaneous: _Okay. What time?_

Somehow, he managed to get through the seemingly endless discussion of any number of mundane subjects that would have been uninteresting on the best of days. 

 

 

“So would you be um, cutting me?” It was late that evening. They were on the floor in front of Ignis’s living room sofa, discussing how to avoid death and grievous injury while using lethal weapons in a sexual context.

Prompto was laying with his head on his lap, smiling up at him as he threaded his fingers through soft blond hair as they spoke. “There is always a risk- a very probable one- of it happening inadvertently, you understand that. But it does not have to be done intentionally. I would only do that if you wanted me to and asked on no uncertain terms.”

“I don't know yet. Maybe? I mean, I think I want to, I want to know what it's like at least-”

“That's fine. Right now, we’re still just talking about it. Whatever you decide you want. There are many points between here and there and unless skin has been broken, you can always turn back. If it has, you can always say no more.” 

“Pretty sure I want to.”

“Hmm, are you now? You know there's no need to hurry into everything at once. We can start slow and work up to it.”

“I know, it's ok, I mean we're still just talking. And it’s something I was kinda curious, before you even. I don't feel like it's rushing. Do you? 

“I don't. But I do fear you feeling unduly pressured.”

Prompto shook his head and reached up to draw Ignis towards him. Their lips met, the hand on the back of his neck pulling him into the kiss, his fingers still twined in blond hair tightened slightly. Prompto pressed upward in response, heat between them growing. Then they broke apart. “Tell me about it.” 

“We’ve been talking about it.”

Another head shake, “Forget the safety and risk talk. When you asked me, you weren't thinking about that that part. What were you thinking? Tell me that.”

_What were you thinking? Tell me that._ They were alone, there was no need to try to conceal the visceral reaction that his thoughts provoked. He closed his eyes. A small shudder passed through him as he allowed the images of that face, that body: stretched out, restrained, willing captive, anticipating. He held back any number of involuntary sounds that wanted to escape him in that moment. 

“You okay?”

“Yes. Quite. I'm sorry. You are right, safety was the last thing on my mind right then. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay.”

He took a long, slow breath in, and let it out. “Well, there was you,” he started. “And we were in the bedroom, I'd undressed you- and had you restrained by your wrists and ankles in the little alcove on the wall.”

“Hmmm, naked and restrained? This is sounding good so far.” Prompto grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Then I’ll tell you the rest....”

 

 

The next day, they were having lunch again. Just before they parted to go back to their respective days, Prompto stopped him. “What we were talking about? I, um, I...want to,” he almost whispered with a shy smile.

“Are you sure? I hope that you don’t feel like you need to say anything before you're ready.”

“I'm sure.”

 

They made the arrangements.

 

“Go into the bedroom. I'll just be a second.”he had barely stepped into the room when Ignis followed, put something on the dresser and then came up soundlessly behind him. Prompto leaned back into arms that snaked around him, kissed the side of his neck and started undoing his vest. They broke contact just enough to let it slide off before Ignis immediately drew him back, speaking into his ear. “I know I've asked you this a hundred times, but once more, are you absolutely sure?”

Prompto turned around, ready with an exasperated huff at his lips. He wasn't going to break. He might have been a bit nervous- only in his private thoughts was he at all familiar with where they were going- but he wasn't afraid of those daggers- not while Ignis was the one controlling them- and he certainly wasn't afraid of Ignis himself. As if pushed back by the weight of the penetrating stare that met him, that huff was drawn back in a sudden inhale. By now he was accustomed to the contrast between Ignis, the wholly proper and professional man to the outside world and Ignis, his lover behind closed doors- and several points in between. This was...another layer. Had he been less acquainted with the man in front of him, Prompto might have described him right now as “sinister”. Even now the word might not be entirely inaccurate, though it wouldn't have been complete- but he wasn't wasting his energy with conjuring adjectives inside his own head. He let it be what it was and in the space of another breath, he found himself shifting from turned on to fully aroused. “Yes.” He exhaled the word with an absent nod. 

 

 

As a strategist and tactician, Ignis had to know how to read people-and quickly. In the seconds between Prompto turning around in his arms and breathing out the affirmation of his certainty, his face had gone through several distinct iterations. The initial exasperation at being asked yet again if he was sure quickly morphed into something that Ignis couldn’t quite label- something like but not quite awe, something like but not quite fear. This was chased by the look that told him he could stop asking, it was barely a flicker, but unmistakeable: a steel that settled on him just as he was about to pull the trigger in battle. And when the “yes” ghosted past his lips, it was with unquestionable wanting in his eyes. 

Ignis took one of Prompto’s hands and kissed the back of it lightly, barely brushing it with his lips. Then he turned it over and did the same to the soft inside of one freckled wrist, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin there as he did, sucking at it as he pulled away, delighting in the tension that flexed through that arm in response, the other coming up to drape behind his neck as Prompto moved closer to kiss him, drawing his lower lip into his mouth to suck on it and run his tongue over its surface.

Once Prompto was restrained, Ignis stepped back to look him over. He had to catch his breath at the sight before him. With his easy smile and wide blue eyes, was, in many ways a picture of innocence. And here he was: naked, save the cuff that he never removed, and the restraints on his wrists and ankles. A flush to his cheeks made his freckles stand out under lust-darkened eyes. His lips were slightly parted, his cock hard. The contrast of the innocence and the indecency was one thing. Adding the knowledge of what his blades could- would- do to further defile that image. It was pure sin- and one he would shamelessly commit.

“Darling, you are a sight,” he breathed in a voice at once both threat and reverence. 

“You're making me blush,” Prompto giggled as Ignis’s gaze swept over him from head to toe and back. 

“I know.”

 

He rolled his eyes and looked away, unable to help feeling self conscious when on display like this with nothing to do, especially when Ignis was giving him a look that clearly belied what he thought of what he saw. 

Pushing past the self consciousness, he looked up again to meet that stare, unflinching. Ignis responded by taking his face gently in hand and kissing him just as softly. Prompto caught his lower lip, nibbling lightly on it. This earned him another kiss, much more insistent, before Ignis pulled back. The look in his eyes was so intense, it was downright invasive. He almost had to look away again before the question came.

“Shall I?” Prompto nodded, and he summoned his daggers. 

Holding the grips in one hand and blades cradled in the other, Ignis spoke. “We've discussed this but I cannot stress enough, these are the same daggers that I use in battle. You've witnessed more than once precisely how lethal they are. And we've discussed how this is not the battle field. The dangers are not the same as if it were. He paused, running a thumb along the flat of one of the blades. “Do you wish to continue?”

Much as the words may sound, he knew this was no threat, no repetitive query as to his certainty but a factual statement of the potential danger of those weapons and a context he wasn't used to. It was also a formal declaration of intent without which Ignis would not proceed.

He intended, at least, to get a taste of what that metal felt like. “Let’s go,” he laughed.

 

 

Occasionally it occurred to Ignis to wonder what it said about him, that he enjoyed knowing what he could do to those at his mercy, even as he never would. It crossed his mind again and he allowed it only a moment before shutting it away- this was not the time to be entertaining undermining thoughts. 

Placing one of the daggers on the table, he stepped back in front of Prompto, looked him in the eye, glanced down at the weapon he was still holding, then up again, briefly quirking an eyebrow, a lascivious smirk making its way across his lips. “Well then, here we are. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you try not to make any sudden movements and that you let me know immediately if you need to stop or take a break. Are we clear?”

“Yeah.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You remember what to say if you need me to stop?”

 “Chocobos,” recites Prompto with a small snort.

 “Good.”

Where to start? His gaze shifted pensively between his lover in front of him and the dagger in his hands. He brought it up and slid the flat surface of it along Prompto's lower lip. He was not prepared for the sight of a flick of tongue licking along the blade, followed by the flash of a cheeky grin.

“Keep doing that, love, and I will not be able to trust myself to continue with this.”

“Sorry, not sorry.” There was that grin again, Gods help him. Ignis drew in a long breath and steeled his concentration against further breach. Turning the blade so that the point of the blunt side was only lightly touching skin, he drew it from earlobe to chin along the narrow jaw line. Easing the pressure to barely a feather’s weight, he ran it down his throat. 

“How does that feel?” 

“Tickles a little.”

Ignis ran the blade down his sternum, then brought it back up to trace across his clavicle, one side and then the other. Prompto shivered, eyelashes fluttering. “Does that tickle also?" 

“Not exactly. Keep going,”

Down his ribs, first one side, then the other, down his sternum again, then following the trail of fine blonde hair down his stomach, and angling it across the crease above Prompto's thigh, twitching at the light touch of the metal, while his thumb traced a mirror path across the opposite side of his body. 

He let the blade roam in all directions across the landscape of freckles and faint silvery rivulets that marked his skin, giving Prompto time to grow accustomed to the cool metal touch, noting the spots that make him shudder and twitch. 

“What do you think, love? Enjoying this?”

A breathy laugh, “Yeah.”

He rocked the blade upward so its tip dug into skin, enough so that a sharp prickle could be felt, met with an equally sharp yelp of surprise; not enough to pierce. 

“And that?”

“Yes.” 

“Any objection to me turning it over to the cutting edge?”

A pause, a brief flicker of uncertainty and then Prompto’s expression opened up. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Are you certain?”

Without hesitation, Prompto nodded. “I trust you.”

Ignis could see the truth of those words on his face. Felt himself being pulled in further as he slowly turned the dagger over and settled the cutting edge along that fair skin. At first he refrained from setting it truly on edge- kept it tipped over towards the flat- or letting just the point prick at the individual freckles. 

But how true could that plainly-written trust be to him if he didn't return it? Prompto was not a porcelain doll, but a flesh and blood, sentient man who had given thought and consideration to this. He had stepped willingly into the room, allowed himself to be restrained. How many times had the word “yes” already fallen from his lips? How many more times need he hear it? This reminder to himself, that he was not doing this _to_ , but doing it _with_ , was like turning a switch in his mind. He jerked his hand, a light flick of his wrist and the point of his dagger was digging in- just enough to cause another quick, sharp spike of sensation. It indented slightly, for just a second, into a freckle on his arm before he eased the pressure back from the blade, pulled it away and rubbed the tip of his thumb softly over the spot. “Did that hurt?”

“No, yeah but not much. It was just like a pin prick. You can do more.”

“Very well.”

 

 

More. He asked for it, and received it. The tip of the blade bit him over and over, rained down like tiny needles into his flesh. Ignis had not yet broken skin, but his nerves were lighting up, every flick of metal, every brush of a fingertip like grabbing hold of a live wire. He shivered and twitched, every movement bringing him closer to certainty that he would cause one of those inadvertent cuts. Did he care? He wasn't sure.  

What was it to ask for it deliberately, for the tip to pierce his skin and tear it open with full intent? What would of it be to watch those eyes trace the path of the blade, to feel the control in that hand that guided it? How exact the pressure? Would it sting? Would it burn? He needed to know. 

“Cut me.”

 

 

The words hit his ears like a shot. 

_Cut me._

It wasn't a request.

Green eyes met violet blue. No question passed between them. He gave Prompto a long look over his glasses. The look was returned without flinch or break. Ignis nodded once, wordlessly and before moving further, put his blade to the side for the moment. He laid a gloved hand lightly on a freckled cheek and traced his thumb gently across its surface. “If that is your wish,” he replied, which was returned by a slow solemn nod. 

Taking up his blade again, Ignis sank to his knees and ran his hand over Prompto’s thigh, then turned his gaze upward. “Are you all right?”

Another nod. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“Is it weird that I just told you to use your dagger to cut me?”

Ignis closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again before responding. “Is it weird that I want to?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter when you put it that way?”

“True,” he replied softly, “Only that we are on the same page. Second thoughts?” 

“No.”

He reached for his dagger and laid the cutting edge across Prompto’s thigh, pulled it along the surface. applying enough pressure to push into the skin, but not break it, studied the reaction this brought: quickened breath, fascinated stare, black abysses of pupils narrowing the rings ofblue-violet. 

He repeated the movement. The reaction was the same.

And again, this time with a precise upwards flick of his wrist, digging the tip in until flesh gave way- but just barely- and pulling back again. A speck- but only a speck- of red surfacing to mar the pale skin, breath drawn above him sounding slightly more harsh. 

“Do that again.” 

Gladly.

“More than just a needle prick?”

 Yes.

Placing the tip directly against the skin, he pressed until it sank in, just under the surface, and pulled back, entranced by the sound of the gasp drawn above him, the sight of the mark- pink, then beaded with red- that appeared in its wake.

“Oh...” the voice above him breathed, as if in wonder. 

“You liked that?”

“Yes.” Same voice. 

“Again?”

“Six, yes.”

His movements a bit quicker this time, another cut diagonally across the surface of the skin. The razor-edged blade passed between some freckles, bisected others and again, the tiniest of red flecks appeared, minuscule markers along the short trail it had left.

He placed a kiss softly, carefully, near the terminations of the cuts, then stood again and moved back to collect the items he’d placed on the dresser earlier. “May I?” he asked. Isopropyl alcohol, dual purpose: not only to clean the cuts, but also to add to the sting. He flipped the cap, poured a bit onto a piece of cotton. 

The shivers and whine as he brushed it over the cuts werewelcome sounds. He wasn’t expecting the question that came next. “Is that all?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“No.”

He didn’t want to push too far, too fast. But Astrals, help him. He would not turn down the invitation to continue right now. His hands were steady, but his breath caught as he inhaled. 

“Then it shall not be.”

They were only two cuts, and small ones at that, across his thigh. They were his, proof of the lick of the blade. Would they fade as they healed or would they leave scars, permanent reminder of this act? 

This time, his other thigh. This time, two daggers at once, traced a parallel path, the sensation twice as intense, he felt the blades digging ever so slightly deeper into his flesh, the bite raising a cry to fall from his lips, his eyes watered and squeezed shut. He willed them open, locked them to Ignis’s.

“Did I hurt you, love?”

“Yes, a little,” he said with a breathless laugh, “I mean it hurts but you didn’t hurt me. Know what I mean”?

“Yes but please don’t push yourself farther than you can. I trust you to say the word if you need to stop, but I also trust that you will say the word if you need to stop.”  


“I’m good, I swear. Six, that feels so good. Swore to myself that I would let you do it once, no matter what and then if I had to…but no, I’m good. Feels like I’m…swimming, kinda high like during a long training session. Endorpins, I guess. I can keep going. I want to. Please.” 

Ignis regarded him with a predatory tenderness. Kneeling down to repeat the process of swabbing the alcohol over the cuts, the small whines and hisses in response were sweeter than music. The shudders running along those straining limbs made his spine prickle. The site of teeth sinking again into the yielding softness of a lip set his thoughts fracturing with even more beautiful and obscene images. His own desire and arousal grew more difficult to work alongside, but just the same, he did not yet wish to put aside the blades. How was it so easy to adore this creature in front of him, and want to mark him, cause him pain?

He could fall in love with this. Easy enough to get lost in the pleasure and lust aspects, it was’t like he hadn’t before. No shortage of willing recipients to the lick of a blade. But the bite? The bite was another story. Prompto was not the first to be scored by his dagger’s edge but more than others before, they seemed to understand each other. When Prompto had asked the other night what he thought when he pictured it, the words may have taken a minute to come to him- or perhaps that wasn't entirely true. They were there. Despite the blatant openness and trust in the eyes blinking up at him, he found difficulty giving them voice nonetheless.

When he had gotten past his apprehension and started to speak, he was taken with the change that came over Prompto's face. The mischievous grin slowly subsided, giving way to something else that Ignis couldn't quite name until Prompto interrupted him and then it was clear: though he spoke haltingly, what he was seeing was comprehension.

" _So what it sounds...like what you're saying...is that you were...picturing me as...willing prey? Does that sound right.”_

In two words, Prompto had crystallized his thoughts. 

_“Yes, that's- that's exactly it. Does it bother you?”_

_“No.” He chewed on his lip for a minute. “I um, I kinda had a feeling about that before.”_ He looked away shyly _. “It's one of the things that attracted me to you?”_

_“Is it?”_

_“Yeah. Prey recognizes it's predator I guess?”_

It was a light comment, made with a shrug and a lopsided smile but there was truth to it and, something in the sentiment, recalling it now, nearly swept him away.He willed himself back to the moment. He would pull up just short of letting himself become intoxicated on the feeling of power behind the blades, the sound they made across his offered skin, the sounds they dragged from Prompto’s willing lips. Everything was in his hands, and he knew that he need only do it wrong once to never do it again.

“You're thinking. A lot,” Prompto observed in a hazy voice

“I suppose I am, yes. I have you to thank for it,” he said with a gentle curl of a half-smile. 

“You do? How?”

Ignis put down his daggers and came back to Prompto, stroking his thumb along a cheekbone. “I apologize for becoming distracted. I was thinking of something you said the other night. If you don’t mind, I would rather not let it interrupt us further. But I would very much like to talk about it…after?”

“Okay, yeah.” 

Ignis pressed himself against Prompto, firmly and slowly. Circled an arm around his waist, gripped his ass, nails digging gently into the toned but yielding muscle. Their parted lips brushed together like one feather over another, tongues barely touching before Ignis pulled back again. He closed his eyes and popped the snap at one wrist, then pulled off the glove and did the same with the other. Hands exposed, he took Prompto’s face in them with a touch as truly delicate as one might imagine from the appearance of his fingers. The look in his eyes was anything but delicate though. The last kiss had been gentle, this one was decidedly not. He slid his bared palms down Prompto's chest, abs, thighs and, simply getting lost for a moment in the tactility, drew them back up and flicked his thumbnails across overly sensitive nubs, drawing back as Prompto started to push into the touch, his breath coming a bit harder. Ignis moved to run ran a hand up his arm from elbow to wrist, tips of his fingers barely touching the soft and incredibly sensitive skin of his inner arm. When he reached the wrist, he took hold of the cuff with his other hand and turned Prompto's arm til the top side faced him and the palm faced the wall, then did the same to the other arm. The look on his face changed again: far away, betraying nothing. 

“It occurs to me that we never did discuss blindfolds. May I?”

 

 

“Thought you’d never ask.” And then everything went dark. And a body pressed against him, obvious with want, hot and insistent but controlled all at once. Hips rolled- hard- against his and he was aware of the involuntary sound he made in response, but unable to stop it. He pressed into the sensation as he had when Ignis had brushed thumbnails across his nipples. Each time he nearly came from those simple touches. Then there was space between them except for a rough grip on his wrist followed by a sharp, painful prick at his fingertip. He cried out in surprise, his whole hand jerking back against the treacherous point pressed into it. When he felt it retreat, he wiggled his fingers a bit to make sure it was out of the way and then shook the sting out. When he stilled, it was being held again, the blade edge now against his arm.

“More of this?”

 

 

Deliberately, Ignis kept a hold on the wrist, minimized movement, minimized risk of cutting where he shouldn’t- mustn’t. 

Retrieving one of the daggers, he touched the tip to Prompto's forearm and made several quick, light slashes, keeping them entirely superficial. Each drew a cry and a jerk from the restrained body which in turn elicited a corresponding response in his own. But the time he had done the same to the other arm, his own need was to the point of distraction. He could not continue without a higher degree of risk than he was willing to allow. Those marks, his doing, 

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Prompto responded between harsh breaths. “Little intense, but I’m fine. Good for more.”

“I am glad to hear this. However, I believe this is going to be where I!must stop for the evening.”

“Something wrong?”

“Not at all. I believe, however, that I have reached a point where I cannot safely carry on. I am sorry that it happened so quickly after introducing the blindfold. Next time we will start with it if you want." 

“What? Oh…okay got it.”

He sent his daggers away and took up the alcohol and cotton as he’d done before, allowing himself to thoroughly soak in the the gasps and whines in response to its sting. 

“It is those very sounds that you're making that are so much of the reason I cannot continue. I am sure I know the answer but I hope I will hear them from you again.”

“Yeah.”

 

 

Ignis removed the blindfold, then bent down and released his ankles from their restraint one at a time. As he did, Prompto lifted each foot and rotated his ankles. A bit stiff, he thought distantly, but they would work out quickly. Straightening again, Ignis wrapped an arm around Prompto to support him. He undid the restraints on his wrists. No longer held up, Prompto slumped slightly forward into the embrace there to catch him, drank in the feeling of the strength that caught him him for a few seconds, and then straightened so he was standing on his own. 

“Gimme a minute,” he said, Ignis took a step back, arm still out, but didn't take his eyes off him as he rolled his shoulders and moved his arms around experimentally. He closed his eyes and sighed at the strain in his muscles, reveling in the pulling sensation as he moved his limbs, then slowly rolled his head from side to side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Oh, mmm. It hurts, pulls when I move. Stings. Feels really good,” Prompto replied, his words slightly slurring and his eyelids not quite wanting to stay fully open though he didn't otherwise seem sleepy. 

 

 

If there was still any question in Ignis’s mind as to how he could ever want to cause physical pain to someone he loved, this, the obviousness of the pleasure drawn from it, put an end to any wondering. The heady sounds, the blissed-out face, the cock hard with moisture beading at the tip, overly sensitized and long since ready to receive attention. As he was playing this over in his mind, he found himself pulled forward. All danger dismissed, he braced one hand against the wall and gave in.

 

 

Prompto leaned the few inches back against the wall and pulled Ignis with him, melting with the lips that met his, sinking under the weight of kiss that was practically burning him. “Too much, this,” he waved a hand up and down, words fleeing in maelstrom of pain and heat and desire that swirled through his head. He was distantly aware of hoping he would get the message across, and the partial disconnect that was keeping perfectly clear thoughts of what he wanted from translating to equally clear speech. Those things that he had indicated still remained between him and Ignis. This was not time for that, this was time for…not that. 

Ignis pulled back, looking alarmed. “Am I hurting you?” At the same time, Prompto took advantage of the small space between them to pull his shirt out and grab at his belt. “Ah, I see.”

Words returned, a few choice ones anyway. “I’m fine, but you’re not naked.”

“Perhaps we can fix that...”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been wanting to write some blade kink for a while back in the fall when I realized that Iggy would be an awesome character for this. It took some time to decide who with, and somehow Prompto won out despite the fact that at the time, these two weren't a big ship for me. but I started writing this, and then Promnis week happened and at some point along the way, I've fallen in love with these two. I never expected this to be more than maybe a thousand word smut scene but what I would up with seems to be more of a study in the dynamic that I conjured for them in my mind.
> 
> Also, at some point along the way, I decided to write a trilogy. I'm still working on them, but there will be a Gladnis and an Ignoct blade play piece eventually.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read bits and pieces of this as I've written it, sent reaction GIF's and keyboard mashes!
> 
>  
> 
> [Yell at/with me on Tumblr!](http://eratoschild.tumblr.com)


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